


Out of the Blue

by SuperFerret



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Movie Spoilers, Some Humor, Spectre - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 18:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5101553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperFerret/pseuds/SuperFerret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James receives a message from his past.</p>
<p>Very minor Spectre spoilers but mostly this is just an add-in to the scene near the start where he plays the message.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Blue

Eve spared a glance at James as she tentatively closed the door, leaving him alone with a hand-warmed tumbler clutched in his fist.

James set the glass down on the coffee table and slouched into the sofa. He ran one hand over his face and neck as he smoothed out the wrinkles and tried to wake himself up. 

She was gone.

***

Olivia, his Olivia, was just another name in his list of failures now, only he felt this loss more richly since the arrival of the private video message. As he was leaving MI6, he had found a small parcel left for him with a sticky paper note that simply said, "For James” and he’d assumed it was just another gift from one of a plethora of admirers. He was right, in a way.

When he’d entered the disc and pressed play he found himself wishing it had come with a warning, a sign, anything that might have prepared him for the face he had never expected to see again.

“007,” she started. “With any luck you won’t ever have to see this but knowing our world as we do, this will no doubt be completely necessary.”

James heard nothing after his signature number. He stopped breathing; he stopped blinking; he stopped believing. A wave of freshly cultivated grief drenched through his skull like a spread of poison. He could not stop the sudden flow of tears nor the ache of remembrance that reminded him of how he lost her. He sniffed and clumsily wiped his crisp sleeve across his face.

“… of the blue but keeping secrets is our game, isn’t it James?”

It was only when he saw her look down, huff a laugh to herself and then pause looking straight through the screen into his eyes that he thought to go back to the beginning and listen to what she had to say.

“007. With any luck you won’t ever have to see this but knowing our world as we do, this will no doubt be completely necessary. I won’t allow my eventual death to get in the way of getting the job done and you’re the only one I trust to do it right.”

James paused the film. He looked for clues to determine when it was she might have filmed this. Was it after the threat from Silva or before he was on the scene? Was it before or after she believed him to be dead? _You’re the only one I trust._ A short burst of pride was quickly dampened, and he got up to pour himself a couple of fingers of whisky to ensure he got through the whole film from now on. 

She had a job for him, a man to kill, don’t miss the funeral, she said. He was hanging off every word like the sweetest dessert that he knew he would never taste again. He was committing every syllable to memory so as not to forget the timbre of her voice and he reasoned that the information would probably be useful to know as well. That was not important right now.

Olivia reached across to the camera, presumably to switch it off, but she paused. Her arm fell back into place as she sighed.

“James. There’s just one more thing really. For many years now I’ve protected and defended you from many a committee and over-zealous bureaucrat and I always maintained that was because you are the best at what you do and you deserve MI6’s loyalty.” Olivia was looking down more often than before like she couldn’t maintain the semblance of eye contact. “But there’s a little more to it than that.”

Every ounce of James’ attention was focussed on Olivia’s lips.

“On the assumption that you will probably never see this,” she took a deep breath, “I have had feelings for you for a long time. The hopeless longings of a lonely widowed woman perhaps but at least it will give you a good laugh if I’m gone.”

James found himself on his knees in front of the screen, his eyes wet, with his hand moving to stroke her brow.

“Watching you charm your way through all of those willing women, I often wonder if you’ll ever get through enough of them until I’m next in line.”

A choked laugh was forced from his throat. You _were_ next in line; you were _always_ top of the line; there was no one in line worth comparing to you.

“The James Bond Experience comes so highly recommended that I can’t deny I haven’t thought about what it might be like… to feel your body pressing up against me, holding me still whilst you kiss your way up my neck and bite down at the moment you find me utterly irresistible…”

“A silly fantasy perhaps but I’m not gone yet. There’s still time.” Olivia flashed her wicked smile that he had forgotten to remember.

“Well, I’m sorry to bring this out of the blue but keeping secrets is our game, isn’t it James?”

She stared thoughtfully into the camera and for a moment James forgot every terrible detail of his past and enveloped himself in her gaze.

With one last flash of her eyes, she reached across the screen and was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in years and then this was begging to be written. Originally I didn't intend it to be full of angst but hey ho, the demons of creative writing have spoken.


End file.
